My Untraditional Path to Traditional Publishing

Image: two paths lead to a beach: one a tidy boardwalk with stairs and handrails and the other a brief boardwalk which suddenly gives way to sand.
Photo by David Emrich on Unsplash

Today’s guest post is by executive coach Irina Cozma.


Soon after making the decision to write a book, I realized I did not want to just write a book. I wanted to write a good, useful book. I spent 2023 exploring different topics. Some were too small, some I got bored with in a few weeks, and some were not really me. Then one day I had the realization that in my coaching sessions the same words kept coming up again and again.

“Stuck.” “Lost.” “I don’t know.”

That became the topic of the book: How can we see more options for ourselves and create more possibilities at work, so we don’t feel lost or stuck and can have a better, lighter relationship with our professional life?

I decided to write the book first, not the book proposal, because I knew I would publish the book one way or another.

By the end of 2023 I wrote 20,000 words; by late 2025 I had 40,000 words.

Between 2024 and 2025 I got input from 15 beta readers who helped me make the book better: chapters moved around, were broken into parts, new chapters were added, and the title changed. The initial title was “The Power of Options”; over time the working title became “Possibility Thinking at Work.”

Initially I didn’t have a framework/model, just individual strategies/chapters. Over the years the framework/model emerged. That was fascinating! And this reiterated my belief that I could not have written the book proposal first. I needed to struggle with the concepts at a deeper level for the final framework to emerge.

In late 2025, I started focusing on the book proposal.

I was lucky that I had people in my network who published books, and three of them were kind enough to share their book proposals with me. What I noticed was that while the proposals shared similarities, they also differed, and even AI couldn’t agree on what the “standard” was. For example, in one book proposal the chapter summaries were just a list of bullet points, while in another proposal each chapter got two pages. All the book proposals were single spaced, when all the guidance I read said double space.

All these differences were confusing, and since I decided not to have an agent, it was on me to figure it all out. So I decided to hire some help. I ended up spending $3,100:

  • $500 on a freelance editor who specializes in book proposals (I did not find it useful)
  • $2,500 on a literary agent who also offers paid services (some usefulness but not for that money)
  • $100 on a live book proposal webinar with Jane Friedman (my proposal was one of the examples analyzed during the webinar, the best $100 I spent on the proposal)

I didn’t see a correlation between the price of the service offered and the quality of the advice. Some conversations were discouraging as I learned that I needed to keep building my platform for two to three years to have a chance with traditional publishers. My platform included 5,000 LinkedIn followers and 1,500 newsletter subscribers. Other interactions were immensely helpful, like the webinar with Jane. That public scrutiny was cringe-inducing but so useful!

In April 2026, I start sending the proposal to around 20 publishers I preselected.

My top picks were HBR and Wiley. Wiley never got back to me despite my multiple follow-ups. HBR said the idea was not clear to them and they had something similar in progress.

Along the way, I submitted to a few hybrid publishers to gauge what might be possible. I encountered amazing people at Greenleaf and Page Two who showed great enthusiasm for my book proposal, and I received contracts from both. Berrett-Koehler also proposed a hybrid model to me, as their threshold for traditional publishing was having two to three speaking engagements per week with a national audience. If this is a path you are considering, the investment for a hybrid book was $50k+ plus ongoing costs for warehousing, shipping, printing, etc. However, I have colleagues in my network who have published with smaller hybrids at a fraction of that cost, so there are options.

Another encounter was with a wonderful editor from Routledge. She was fast, clear, down to earth, and practical. We exchanged a few emails in April and by the end of April I had the contract.

Between April and early August, I was in conversations with a few other traditional publishers. Most of them wanted to change a lot about the title and approach, and while some suggestions were useful, others changed the direction too much.

So, in early August, I went back to Routledge and said yes to them. They did not require me to purchase books as part of the contract and also offered complimentary copies: ten paperbacks and one hardcover. It was such a happy decision and I allowed myself to enjoy the moment.

As I progressed with the manuscript, I was surprised to learn that securing permissions comes with a fee that I have to pay. In one email exchange with HBR, I learned that using a table from one of their books in my book would cost $150, the lowest fee they charge. But their permission coordinator went the extra mile and discovered that I had previously published several articles with HBR. As a result, they decided to waive the permission fee for my request. It was an unexpected gesture of generosity, and another reminder of how many kind people work in this industry.

There is still a long way ahead for the book, and a lot of work for somebody to pick it up and say “this is well written and useful.” But from this first part of the journey, I learned that there is no one best way of doing things. I didn’t have an agent. I wrote the book first before the book proposal. Maybe the best path is the one that makes sense to you even if it might not make sense to others. I also found it important to decide where along the path to ask for help (paid or unpaid). I decided not to get help from an agent, but I received a lot of help from beta readers and with the book proposal. Every publisher I encountered along the way extended small gestures of generosity whether through their enthusiasm for my topic or by finding ways to save me money. I definitely believe you should not do this alone.

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9 Comments
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Elizabeth Dougherty

I love how you leaned into making writing and publishing a book a more collaborative process by involving your network. Well done! A longtime book editor, I constantly urge authors to “build community,” where they both give and receive—starting the moment they think about writing a book. Relationships, not social media, are also the key to building an author platform. I would never have published my own book (The Complete Expert-to-Author Guide: Plan, Write, and Publish Your Nonfiction Book) without my coauthor, Marisa Solis, and support from four decades of connections to real people.

Chad Allen

Love your article for the way it points up how individual are the paths to publishing. I’m sharing it now via all my socials. Thank you, Irina!

Latayne C Scott

When is the next time Jane is offering a live book proposal webinar?

Jane Friedman

I don’t have one on the books right now, but this might help in the interim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qB0OQKsbCcc

Latayne C. Scott

That was excellent — any similar training for fiction books?

Jane Friedman

There aren’t really proposals for fiction. You write query letters and synopses. I address them here:
https://janefriedman.com/query-letters/
https://janefriedman.com/how-to-write-a-novel-synopsis/

Lindsey Danis

Jane’s book proposal workshop was excellent value for money when I took it. It was very helpful in giving concrete examples and helping me narrow down the target audience – which in the end helped me write a proposal that led to obtaining a literary agent and a small press deal. Jane, I hope you’l consider offering the workshop again!